Dragoon's Twilight
by Songwind
Summary: Next gen. stuffies. An assassin is sent to kill King Albert's son and hesitates for the first time. PLEASE review?! Ch.5's UP!
1. Default Chapter

Dragoon's Twilight  
By Songwind  
  
Notes- Yes, a sequel, a fairly dark sequel. (ducks as people throw numerous objects at her head) ACK! Hey, I'm doing my best to be original here! The characters you don't recognize in here, unless you haven't played LOD (shame on you!) are mine. I'd be flattered if anyone actually wanted to use them for something of theirs, but please let me know if you do, OK?  
  
Moving on, please give this story a chance? And let me know what you think when you take the chance? It only takes a couple seconds to type in 'Cool' or 'it's great', honest. I've reviewed myself. Thanks, and please enjoy!  
  
Disclaimer- The Legend of Dragoon world, characters, storyline, etc. were all made up in the mind of a genius. And as much as I'd like to dream about it, I'm no genius so I didn't make it, alright? So don't bother suing me.   
  
~*~  
  
Chapter One- Growing Up  
  
The room was dark, lit only by a few candles and the moonlight creeping in through the cracks of the windows. However, it was still easy to tell where things were, especially since this was only a temporary boarding area and not a very rich one at that.   
  
Especially considering that this was in one of the worst neighborhoods in northern Serdio.   
  
There was a plain desk with papers cluttered all about it; a bed-couch both made for sleeping and for mere relaxation; a stack or two of books against the far wall; a fairly decent carpet to cushion a guest's feet. Also, a decent chair... And a former knight. A knight the assassin knew very well.  
  
The former knight leaned forward in his chair. "Welcome, Kit. You've grown since I last saw you," he said warmly.   
  
"It's the latest fad," the assassin said dryly. She seemed to be relaxed, even bored, but the former knight had enough training while he had been in service to know that every muscle in her was tense in case a trap was in order. At the sleeves of her dark shirt he could see the glinting of metal, even in this dark room.  
  
The knight chuckled. "Well, you look well. I hope I didn't inconvenience you with the hour?"  
  
"Hours don't matter. What do you want, Greon?"  
  
The knight shrugged. A candle nearby flickered from even the slightest disturbance of air. "You get right to the point nowadays, don't you? Well, that's good. I don't want to waste time, either. As you've probably guessed, I want you for a job."  
  
"Yes? What kind of job?"  
  
"I need someone killed." Now he leaned forward in his chair towards the assassin. "The crown to the King of Serdio."  
  
The assassin didn't look very impressed. In fact, she looked pretty bored, if bored meant watching his every move, arms crossed loosely under her breasts, eyes glittering in the darkness. "What's the price?" she asked.  
  
The former knight choked. "Great Soa, girl! What else could you want? This is the heir to Serdio we're talking about!" He leaned forward, a gleam in his own eyes. "Haven't you wanted revenge since you were a little girl? This is your chance, you know! You can have great fun with someone as important as a Crown Prince!"  
  
She still looked bored. "What's the price?" she repeated, but this time in a cold, hard voice. It was warning enough for him to straighten back in his chair before replying.  
  
"I thought you'd like this," he said in a mock-hurt voice. She didn't respond- she merely continued watching him with those eyes. "Alright, alright. Five hundred in gold."  
  
"I killed a lord in Mille Seseau for a thousand," she stated. "Are you merely insulting a Crown Prince's worth, or are you insulting me?"  
  
He winced. "How about seven hundred? Eight? I can afford eight without a problem..."   
  
"It's eleven hundred gold pieces or I won't do it."  
  
The former knight threw his hands up in the air in defeat. "You win! Eleven hundred gold pieces waiting for you the moment you return with the blood fresh on your weapons."  
  
"And if I fail?"  
  
"You won't fail. You've never failed."  
  
"Give me some incentive, Greon. It makes a job interesting. Make it creative."  
  
"You want a punishment for failing?"  
  
"I didn't say I would fail, I'm asking for a reason to do this job other than money. What's at stake- my life? My dignity?"  
  
"Hmm." This was certainly interesting. No one had asked him to be creative on punishments before. "Well, how about this. If you fail and have the guts to come back here, you'll find yourself dealing with a very skilled executioner?"  
  
"And what will this executioner do to me?" Now she sounded faintly amused. What was there to be amused at? Was she a masochist?   
  
"You will be bound hand and foot, and the executioner will... let's say, severe many parts of you before you die."  
  
"Really? Well. It's a little old for an idea, but it'll do." She sounded even more amused.   
  
"What's happened to you, Kit? You're quite cold, considering what I've done for you in the past. And I'm offering you something you want! Didn't you yearn for the death of King Albert and his family when you were old enough to understand but too young to do anything?"  
  
The assassin turned away for a moment, then looked over her shoulder at him.  
  
"You can do this and you'll even get paid for two things you want! We'll fix this damned world with one blow! And you'll be the hero of it all for killing that kid! They'll be in chaos- you could easily slip in and deal with Albert too. Then you can get out and blame it on Tiberoa. And we can watch the world go up in flames! Then we can take care of things... the way our king wanted it done. And not only will you have revenge for King Doel, but for your father as well, who, as I recall, died fighting those wretched Basil folk..."  
  
She turned her head back to the door.  
  
"What happened to the girl who hugged me?" came the plaintive voice. "I miss her."  
  
There was a long pause. Then, "She grew up. It's a new fad. Maybe you should try it sometime." Then she walked out the door.  
  
~*~  
  
Well, that's chapter one. I'm sorry it's so short, but I just wanted to introduce one of the new main characters. And no, I don't think you'd be able to guess who her father is.   
  
Darian (Muse)- (Points above him) CHAPTER!? You call that a CHAPTER? What is your problem? THAT is not a chapter.   
  
(Grumbles and aims a punch at Darian's head) Shut up! Why don't YOU write it if you're so great! Anyway, please tell me what you think of Kit! 


	2. Chapter Two

Chapter Two- Opinions of the King  
  
The day was a little windy again. It wasn't so bad that one had to wear a cloak, but it was certainly enough to get one's attention. After a while, one also got a little cold. King Albert rubbed his gloved hands together and shivered a little. Then he looked up at the tombstone again, smiling faintly.  
  
The King hadn't changed too drastically over the years, though now his hair was starting to gray ever so slightly at the temples. He wore his usual traveling garb, his green outfit with the green cape. Though now his stomach was a little bigger than when he was younger, he was still the same.  
  
"Old friend," he murmured, reaching out to touch the tombstone. "If only we could see your ghost again. But knowing you still watch us is comforting. I pray you are comfortable where you are, Lavitz. Though, who's to say whether eternal sleep is comfortable or not?" The king tilted his head to one side. "In any case, everything's so busy I that Emille, naturally, told me to go away for a while so she could deal with the politicians." Now he chuckled. "I don't know what I'd do without her, Lavitz. She is almost a female version of you- strong and protective, though in a much more- hmm, diplomatic way? After all, she's not a knight at all."  
  
Again, he paused. "I wish you could have met her. I think you would have liked her, Lavitz. At first, she was very proper about everything. Well, she still is, but I believe that over the years she has become a little blunt. And slightly louder. But she is still quite proper about everything she does. I suppose that comes with being a mother and a queen?"  
  
"Sire!"  
  
Albert slowly turned around to see one of the knights from the Second Knighthood salute him. "Yes, Tran?" he asked.  
  
"Your Majesty, it's not wise for you to go off on your own like this!" the knight scolded. "Anything can happen."  
  
The King smiled faintly. "My Spirit is still with me, Tran, and I can still fight if I needed to. At least long enough for you to come and help me. And that is assuming there are enemies around."  
  
"There are always enemies, sire," the knight said.  
  
"..." Albert brushed his fingers along the tombstone once again, feeling the roughness of it through his gloves, and his smile grew sad. "I will visit you later, Lavitz," he promised. Then he stood, shivering slightly as another breeze blew by. "Soa, it is starting to get cool again!"  
  
"That does tend to happen during autumn, sire," the knight answered, looking very solemn.  
  
Albert chuckled. "Yes, it does. Let's hope that it also continues to become warm after the winter, though!"  
  
The knight didn't answer to that one, but he did ask, "Does Your Majesty wish to go anywhere else?"  
  
"Do you really think I need an escort, Tran? It's been years since anyone's tried to harm me..."  
  
The knight looked at him. "If lords in Tiberoa and Mille Seseau can die with suspicious causes, so might you. I'm here to prevent that, Your Majesty."  
  
"True." That was one of the unsettling discussions in court these days. Albert frowned slightly, staring into space for a moment. "That's very true."  
  
There had been reports, on and off, that lords or ladies would die without reason. Some were determined to be poisoned, and some were quite obviously stabbed, but there was never evidence. Except, one time, the assassin or whoever left a knife. However, the knife had been too plain to use it for information...  
  
King Albert shook his head. That was a worry for when he was in court, not when he was outside of it. In any case, those lords and ladies had not had Spirits protecting them and warning them against danger.  
  
He slipped a hand into his pocket and, through his thin gloves, felt a familiar gentle warmth and smiled. The Dragoon Spirit had never left his side since the war with Melbu Frahma. Albert was planning to hand it over to his son, though, very shortly. His time on the thrown was starting to end, and he knew it.  
  
/Arend,/ he thought. /Even if he cannot use it, surely one of his trusted knight-friends would be accepted and could protect him from anything!/  
  
The king held the Jade Dragoon Spirit in his hand for a moment, letting the warmth recognize and greet its current 'master'. Well, he wasn't really the master in the matter- it chose who its user really was. But it accepted him still, which amazed him.  
  
/I suppose it sticks with a master unless the master rejects it or unless the master in question dies,/ he thought. /Well, hopefully I'll just be rejecting it, not dying. Not quite yet./  
  
But those were depressing thoughts. And though the day was windy, it was clear. Depressing thoughts should be saved for those dreary, raining days when one had nothing else to do but brood.  
  
/Not that Emille allows me to brood much,/ he thought in amusement. /Every time I start brooding she makes me do something. Whether she tells me to go and sweep the whole castle up or read a book... I remember that cleaning all too well.../ He winced. /That was a little cruel. I guess now I know how the cleaners feel about cleaning, though. They certainly seemed happy when I appointed a couple more people to the job. At least Emille didn't make me wear that ridiculous outfit or I'd be the laughingstock everywhere... I don't know how I'd face King Zoir, or the Queen of Mille Seseau.../  
  
"Something wrong, King Albert?" the knight asked curiously, watching the expressions flit across his king's face.  
  
"No, just thinking again," Albert replied.  
  
"So did Your Majesty wish to go anywhere else, or was that all for today?"  
  
Albert glanced up at the sun. It was almost noontime. "No, nothing else for now. Let's head back."  
  
The knight nodded and the two walked back towards the castle.  
  
When they got there, Albert heard a couple of young men's laughter and shouting and smiled a little. Apparently Arend was about finished with his lessons.  
  
"...Oh, come now! That was a perfectly legal move!"  
  
"I wouldn't call twisting a man's arm a legal dueling move, Arend."  
  
"But it stopped him, didn't it?"  
  
Albert chuckled wryly and shook his head.   
  
"Besides," his son continued. "It would be perfectly legal on a battlefield- AH! Now THAT wasn't legal!"  
  
The king walked into the training part of the castle to see one of the veteran knights calmly twisting his son's arm with his son wincing. His best friend was sitting there with a very smug look on his face.  
  
"What is this?" he asked in amusement.  
  
The three looked up, and the veteran released his son. "Just debating on legal and non-legal dueling moves, Your Majesty," he replied gruffly.  
  
Arend rubbed his wrist ruefully. "And I give. I don't feel like having my arm twisted out of its joint so you can make your point about all this." He glanced up and smiled a little. "How was your walk, Father?"  
  
"Good enough," Albert replied. He took a moment to study his son. He was fairly tall and slim like his mother. His hair was worn long, like Albert's, but instead of tying it back he let it fall loosely down to his back. Those golden curls, Albert had learned from commoner's gossip, were what girls were most recently breaking their hearts about. "I see you've finished your training for the day?"  
  
Arend shrugged. "Yeah. We drilled a lot and practiced dueling at the end." Then he added, "I won."  
  
"With a non-legal move," the veteran reminded him.  
  
"Let's just say it would be legal if we were in a real battlefield. It would be, wouldn't it?" Arend looked appealingly at his father, who nodded.  
  
"But this isn't a real battlefield. Save those moves for when you're practicing for that. Many lords would get offended if you steered away from tradition during a dueling match with their sons, Arend," Albert explained to him.  
  
Arend sighed. "Alright, fine. I won't do it to any lords when we're traditionally dueling. I shall be quaint and proper."  
  
"No, no, that's for the ladies!" his friend suddenly piped up. "My friend, since last time I saw you, you still seem a man, not a lady. A man is supposed to be charming and witty!"  
  
Albert blinked and glanced at Arend's friend Ranin. He was a lot shorter than the Prince, but slightly stockier. He had short brown hair and wide brown eyes that almost always sparkled with mischief of one kind or another. Right then, Ranin was lounging against the wall without a tunic on, watching the rest of them easily.  
  
The king sighed and continued to watch him as Arend responded.  
  
"You're right, I am a man still unless someone did something when I wasn't looking," Albert's son replied. "But what if a man cannot be charming and witty as you, friend?"  
  
Ranin batted his eyes. "Then I suppose he must turn to being dark and mysterious," he answered.  
  
"Would that I could. If only I had dark hair," Arend sighed longingly.   
  
"You could dye it," Ranin suggested.  
  
"I think not," Albert cut in. "Why don't we head up into the castle? Ranin, care to join us?"  
  
Ranin grinned. "No thank you, Your Majesty. I have... uh, other people to go see. I'll talk to you later, Arend." He had the grace to grab his shirt and sword, bow to everyone else in the room, and then walk off.   
  
Walk? Well, it was more like strutting.  
  
Arend chuckled. "There he goes again. If he keeps wandering around shirtless, he's going to catch cold. I don't care what he says about his family being immune to illness."  
  
"The ladies appreciate it," the veteran said.  
  
/And so do some men,/ Albert thought. Arend caught the look on his father's face.  
  
"Oh father, he's just going off with some friends. He told me he's going to ride out for a while- say, can I do that after I change?"  
  
Albert shrugged. "As long as you are back for court, I have no complaints."  
  
"Court is why I want to go, father. I admit I was hoping we'd all forget court was going today and just go riding." Arend waved his hands around.  
  
"No such luck, son. Let's head up and have something to drink while you change." Albert nodded at the knight veteran. "Thanks again for training the boys."  
  
The veteran shrugged. "Anything for Your Majesty."  
  
Albert smiled. "Let's go, Arend."  
  
The two walked outside and up the stairs towards the main entrance to the castle. A cool breeze made Arend shiver and rub his arms a little.  
  
"It is getting cold again."  
  
"So it is."  
  
They continued walking.   
  
"Arend," Albert then said hesitantly. "You know I don't mind who you-"  
  
Arend snorted. "Father, I am not interested in men. I am quite content with young, attractive women. I leave the young, attractive men to Ranin. So don't worry yourself."  
  
Albert sighed. "I'm just making sure."  
  
"We're just best friends, like you and the Knight Lavitz were. Only we're the same age."  
  
Albert paused. /I suppose that is true,/ he thought.   
  
He then heard someone running behind them, and turned to see another knight, a middle-aged man, hurrying towards them. Albert smiled in admiration- the man wasn't the least bit out of breath when he reached the King and Prince.  
  
"Your Majesties, there is a warrior here to see you," he said calmly, pausing to bow to them.  
  
"A warrior? Who?" Albert questioned.  
  
"He calls himself Dart-"  
  
"Dart! Where is he now?" Albert said, surprised.  
  
"He is just approaching the castle now, King Albert," the knight replied. "I thought you would like to know-"  
  
"Yes, of course, of course!" Albert glanced at his son. "It appears that court is indeed canceled today, Arend. Why don't you go and ride with your friends this afternoon?"  
  
Arend nodded with a smile. "Thank you, Father."  
  
"I will follow you with Dart in a short while, Arend," Albert told his son. "Go on in and clean yourself."  
  
Arend obeyed, and Albert turned to head back down the road.  
  
"Dart," he muttered. "You said Shana was pregnant. What on earth are you doing coming here at such a close time?"  
  
~*~  
  
Eh, heh. There's chapter two. You like? Please review! Reviews are soo nice! ^_^ 


	3. Chapter Three

Chapter Three- Meetings  
Notes- Sorry, it took so long! I hope you still like!  
  
~*~  
  
"Whoa, there!" Arend laughed, patting the neck of the beast he rode. "Slow down a ways. We aren't in a race." He glanced back at his friend, who was still coming after him at a gallop. "At least, most of us aren't," he added.  
  
Ranin pulled up next to Arend's horse and sighed. "Ah, this is great. Nothing like tearing across the countryside, eh?"  
  
"I agree. Though I'm not sure I enjoyed that race through the woods."  
  
"Ah, don't be ridiculous. You loved every second of it," Ranin answered. "The challenge always gets to you, doesn't it? I feel it pouring through my veins, and I am but a mere humble knight-"  
  
"Yeah right," Arend said with a laugh. "Humble. Yes, that describes you perfectly."  
  
Ranin mimed a blow at his friend, who pretended to be struck and moaned, covering his face with his hands. "My face! My beautiful face!" Arend said. "You will pay for that!"  
  
"You'll have to catch up to me then!" Before he had even finished his sentence, Ranin was racing on his horse up a nearby hill, yelling the words back at his friend. Arend laughed again and kicked the sides of his own horse lightly so it too would pound up the hill.  
  
A while later, Arend pulled up his horse again. "I think we should walk them from here on in," he told his friend, who was also pulling up short. "They seem very tired."   
  
Ranin raised an eyebrow at the panting horses. "No, I didn't notice."  
  
Arend rolled his eyes. "Come on. Let's get these two back into the stables, and then go to the inn. I heard Bran is giving out spirits again."  
  
"Ah, but don't let your father know!" Ranin laughed.  
  
"Oh, come on Ran. We're both quite old and mature enough to handle a drink or two." Arend slipped off his horse and, holding the reins, began to walk it towards the city. After a moment, he heard his friend walking behind him with his horse.   
  
Ranin was chuckling still. "Old and mature enough in our eyes. What about your father's eyes, Arend?"  
  
"A father's eyes only behold a two year old," Arend moaned theatrically. "Oh, when shall we be considered grown?"  
  
"When our horses learn to fly, I suppose."  
  
Arend snorted.  
  
The two reached Bale a short while later, and were greeted by a number of people. A middle-aged woman with a little girl asked them if she could paint another portrait of them as they passed. Ranin offered to come by later. An old man called out, selling foodstuffs. General folk were coming by and greeting the prince and the young knight.  
  
When finally they reached the stables, and rubbed down their respective horses, Ranin stretched and sighed. "Ah, I agree with you Arend. Let's head down to the inn before any good seats are taken."  
  
Arend raised an eyebrow. "Good seats, friend? And what in Serdio does that mean? Is there something you're not telling me?" He nudged his friend.  
  
"Perhaps," Ranin said, also grinning. "How about you? Visiting the inn without me?"  
  
"Why, never!" Arend said.  
  
The two young men laughed and headed out together.  
  
~*~   
  
"Dart, what are you doing here?" Albert asked, walking quickly to meet his old friend.   
  
The other man smiled. "Sleeping tonight, I hope," was his reply.   
  
Albert chuckled and the two shared a clasping of hands. Their grips were still iron-strong, despite the past few peaceful years. "It is good to see you. But, where is Shana and your little one?" Albert made a show of peering around Dart, who laughed and shook his head.  
  
"Shana is still in Seles. Her parents refuse to let her go when she is about to give them a second grandchild," Dart said. "But this was our usual meeting-"  
  
"Nonsense! You realize you will bring the castle down upon us all when my wife hears you are here and Shana is still in Seles," Albert said. "And while you can escape tomorrow easily enough, I must still live with her."  
  
"I apologize, Your Majesty. I was planning on staying here just for a day or two. Shana isn't due for at least another month, the midwife says." Dart smiled. "And she learned from the best, after all."  
  
"Yes," Albert agreed. He recalled that day twenty years ago, when they'd found the old midwife struggling to put her home back together after the attack of the Sandorans... And the young girl who had offered to help the old woman. "That she did. Well, shall we head into the castle? It is better for us to face the worst as soon as possible so Emille may recover."  
  
Dart sighed. "I suppose you're right. Let's head in."  
  
The two men turned to enter the castle, with the two knights following a discreet distance behind them.   
  
"So how has the past year been in Seles? I have reports, of course, but they are hardly personal," Albert said. "How has Shana and your little one been?"  
  
Dart smiled, and Albert saw some pride on the other man's face. "Well, my son is now strong enough to start practicing with his own sword. Shana is a little concerned about him practicing so much, but I am going with extreme caution. Despite the fact that one is supposed to get hurt during practice." He shrugged. "It's the only way one learns."  
  
"Indeed," Albert agreed. "I only barely got Emille to agree with me on training Arend. That required the backing of every knight in the city as well."  
  
Dart winced. "Wow. I don't suppose you'd be willing to lend me a few of your knights until I convince Shana, would you?"  
  
"I'm sorry, but they are like glue to their posts."   
  
They headed into the King's study, where Emille was draped over a couch reading something.  
  
Dart took a long moment to admire the huge room.  
  
It was a library almost as extensive as the National Library in Mille Seseau, somehow packed into a normal castle as this. Books were stacked either neatly in the shelves (Emille's insisting kept this true) or stacked near the shelves on the ground (Albert's piles of recently read books that Emille couldn't put away anywhere). Along with all the books, Albert had put in a desk covered in papers, two or three chairs, and a couch.  
  
Emille looked up curiously at the sound of the two men coming in, and slowly sat up. Her hair had remained golden all these years, though she held herself with a slower grace than before, a calmer grace. Her dress was perfectly clean; today, she had pulled herself away from her usual pink and donned a blue-gray that went with her eyes.  
  
"Albert! And... Dart?!" she exclaimed delightedly. "Oh, it's been too long since we have had you here! Please, come take a seat! Where is a drink when you need it? It must have been an awful trip in this weather." She waved a hand around.  
  
Dart smiled. "Not too bad, Your Majesty. It was actually quite nice to be travelling again. Of course the monsters were no challenge- they kept me warm enough. Though I am looking forward to a nice, warm bed again."  
  
Emille nodded understandingly. "I see." She glanced around. "But... where is Shana? Has she given birth already? How is the baby?"  
  
Dart now coughed uncomfortably. "Well, uh..."  
  
Emille's eyes narrowed. "Did you leave her in Seles in her condition?" she asked.  
  
"Yes, well, I did..."  
  
"Dart! A woman appreciates a man who stays nearby while she has her children, not one who wanders off while she's pregnant!" Emille began to scold.  
  
Dart fidgeted a little under her gaze, suddenly feeling like his son. "But it was the usual time I..."  
  
"That doesn't matter, you could have sent us a letter explaining and come next spring! Heavens, leaving your wife like that!"  
  
"My son's taking care of her," he said defensively. "He is eleven."  
  
Emille raised an eyebrow at that. "Eleven," she stated.  
  
Now Albert coughed. "Dear, are we going to get Dart something warm to drink?" he asked timidly.  
  
"What? Oh, yes, I apologize." She turned around towards someone they hadn't noticed earlier. "Can you please bring in some tea and something to eat?"  
  
The maid curtsied. "Yes, Your Majesty." She disappeared quickly out the door.  
  
"Now, where was I? Yes, right... How is Shana and the baby doing?"  
  
Dart shifted a little on his seat. "They are both doing very well. Our midwife tells us she is not due for another month, so it was safe for me to come and go quickly. As for my son Jim, he's doing pretty well. He's learning to take care of himself, and ah, taking care of his mother."  
  
"I see."  
  
Albert took a seat himself as the maid returned with tea. "Thank you," he murmured to her. "Well, I'm glad to hear you're doing well, Dart."  
  
Dart nodded at the maid, then at Albert as he took a sip of his cup of tea. "How about Prince Arend?"  
  
"He is very close to gaining knighthood himself," Albert said. "Though today he was having a little trouble deciding what was a legal move when fencing and when actually fighting."  
  
"What happened?" Emille asked. "Thank you, dear. Go on and have a couple hours off," she told the young maid. The maid curtsied again and left.  
  
"He was trying to twist the knight's arm, and the knight returned the favor," Albert replied.  
  
"Albert, we don't need the knights breaking Arend's arm. He's going to need it for the rest of his life," Emille said.  
  
"He didn't break it, or even harm it very much," Albert assured her. "He just held Arend down until our son gave up."  
  
"Hmm."  
  
"So have you heard anything from Tiberoa or Mille Seseau?" Dart cut in. "How is Meru? Anyone heard from her?"  
  
Albert gave a pained expression. "Actually, she's coming by in a couple months with her husband."  
  
"Husband?!" Dart exclaimed. "You mean someone has enough energy to marry her?"  
  
"Apparently. Remember the Wingly Guaraha? He finally got off probation for helping Humans and their Elder's getting tired of locking everyone up because all the children in their forest are running around in the forest talking to human children, now that the forest is safe."  
  
"Oh, dear," Dart whistled through his teeth.  
  
"Meru said that she is going to come by with Guaraha because that will signify the day that that forest of Winglies, at least, will no longer be locked. Winglies and Humans will be allowed to go in and out at will. It's just a matter of time for everyone to get the protesting Winglies out of there."  
  
"Well, that's great news," Dart said with a grin. "How about Miranda?"  
  
"She's taken over the priest's job of explaining the Divine Tree phenomenon," Albert said with a grin. "Can you imagine Miranda as a priest, even calmed down as she is?"  
  
Dart started laughing. "Those poor people! I can imagine her now." He imitated a scowl. "'Look, the damn tree wanted to bring us all to life and then kill us. What, you don't believe me?' Whack!" He hit the palm of one hand with his other hand in a fist.  
  
Albert shook his head. "That's how I hear it's happening. How's Haschel?"  
  
Dart sighed. "...He's still hanging in there. But our doctor says he's only got maybe a year left before..." he trailed off.  
  
Albert nodded. "He's what, in his eighties?"  
  
"Nineties, from what I can figure," Dart said. "Though he refuses to tell us his age."  
  
"I agree with him, it's not your business," Emille said primly.  
  
"And how old are you, dear lady?" Albert teased.   
  
He was rewarded with her hitting him on the arm.  
  
Dart grinned. "I'm glad you're all doing well, though... where is Arend?"  
  
"Off with one of his friends," Emille said. "Ranin, I think his name is. A very nice young man. He's a knight, so they get a lot of training done together."  
  
"Ah."  
  
Dart set down his tea cup. "How is Lady Slambert?" he asked delicately.  
  
"She is still with us, amazingly. She is a resilient woman," Albert said. "She calls the boy she adopted after... Lavitz left us, her grandson. He's married now and his wife just had a child. Lady Slambert insists that she won't leave until she hears him say 'Grandma' to her."  
  
Dart shook his head sadly. "She wanted a family from Lavitz so badly... but... well, she has one at least."  
  
The group was silent for a moment.  
  
Then Dart said, "Well, how about what's going on in Tiberoa? How is everything with your sister, your Majesty?"  
  
~*~  
  
Arend and Ranin entered the inn to the sound of laughter and a few other men shouting their names. Some were drunk already, this early in the day, though most were still quite sober.   
  
"The usual, my lords?" the bartender asked cheerfully.  
  
"Yes, of course," Arend said. "We cannot rest until we've had our usual."  
  
A few of the drunker folk cheered at that statement and ordered more rounds for themselves.   
  
Ranin chuckled and shook his head. "Ah, what a life," he said as he took one of the mugs of ale from the bartender. "To be young at this age. And to be friend to a prince, who pays nothing at all for this!"  
  
Arend raised an eyebrow as he took a sip from his own mug. "I beg to differ. I pay once every month."  
  
"When?"  
  
"When my mother storms in and rants about how bad this is for us," he replied. "Really. My father has been known to have one or two. Why can't I have a pint once in a while?"  
  
"Better than these SLOBS!" Ranin howled at a drunken group in a corner. They waved at him and returned to their drinking. He chuckled again. "Well, shall we find a seat?"  
  
They did so, and were well into their mugs when the door opened again.  
  
Ranin, who was facing the door, gave a low whistle. "Whoo, Arend."  
  
Arend glanced up from his drink. "What is it?"  
  
"You should take a look at that beauty," his friend said.  
  
Arend blinked, and turned around to face the door.  
  
A young woman was making her way through the door. She had long hair tied back from her face in a braid that fell halfway down her back. She wore a dark violet vest with a white blouse underneath, and dark leggings to match. If the inn had had just one or two more windows to let in light from outside as well as more candles inside, Arend would have been certain he could see metal glinting at her sleeves.  
  
She walked in, glancing around once with a cool, businesslike look on her face before turning to the bartender. "Wine, please," she said.  
  
"Of course, my lady. Anything to eat?" the bartender asked. He seemed a little nervous around this woman.  
  
"Yes. The freshest loaf of bread you have and some cheese."  
  
"Will do, my lady." The bartender found himself bowing, caught himself, and turned to get what the woman wanted.  
  
Arend turned back to a grinning Ranin. "Did you know that you were gaping?" Ranin teased.  
  
The prince shook his head. "Don't tease me, Ranin. I prefer my women to have a spark of life in 'em, if at all."  
  
"Yeah, well, maybe you can go over and give 'er that spark, eh? Come on, you need to spend some time with a woman or two. You haven't even spoken to one for months except for Dania. Unless your preferences have changed...?"  
  
Arend snorted. "You wish, my friend. But no, I don't think she wants to be given anything right now except her meal. We'll let her alone."  
  
Ranin pouted. "Party pooper," he muttered, and took another gulp of his ale.  
  
Despite his words, Arend turned to look at the woman again, and found himself staring into her eyes. They were an odd, blue-violet color in the dimming light of the common room in the inn.   
  
"Er, hello," he said lamely. He felt embarrassed being caught looking at this woman.  
  
She nodded at him, and returned to her drink.  
  
Ranin was grinning from ear to ear as Arend returned to his drink again. "Er, hello? Is that all you can think of to say? You're worse off than I thought, Arend."  
  
"Oh shut up," he retorted. "I think I'm done for tonight." He put his ale down and stood up.  
  
At the same time, a few of the drunks in the corner decided that they were going to cheer up this mystery woman. About three of them staggered over to her table, where she sat alone eating.  
  
"Hey, there, sweetie," one slurred. "Why don't you eat with us? You look lonely."  
  
"Thank you, no," she said, in a voice as cool as her expression.  
  
"Ran," Arend said in a low voice.  
  
"I know," his friend replied, watching grimly. "Isn't there that new law of how many drinks you get a night?"  
  
"Yes. They are far over the limit."  
  
"Aw, come on there," a second said. "You don't wanna be lonely. It's getting cold out there, ya know. We could... keep ya warm."  
  
"I'd rather you left me in peace. I've no business with you," she said. The uncaring voice was replaced by an even icier tone, one that made Arend shiver.  
  
Then the third pulled out a knife. "I don't think ya got a choice, honey."  
  
"Hey, no weapons in my common room!" the bartender demanded, stepping out from behind the bar.  
  
The drunks ignored him, circling the woman.  
  
Arend walked over and casually hit one on the head with the hilt of his sword before he realized what he was doing. A moment later, Ranin was by his side with his own sword out. "I don't suppose you fellows could leave?" Arend suggested.  
  
The woman glanced up at him, and returned to her meal.  
  
"I suggest ya leave, prince," the drunk leader slurred. "We ain't from 'round here, and we know different fighting techniques. We can beat ya anytime!"  
  
Arend raised an eyebrow- the man was having trouble standing, much less fighting. "As you wish." He nodded to Ranin.  
  
A moment later, the three drunks were being thrown out the door, unconscious.  
  
Ranin was demanding water, saying he wanted to clean his hands off from dragging those people out the door. A few of the peasant patrons, who'd been watching, immediately got water for him and he cleaned himself off.  
  
Arend looked at the woman. "Did they touch you, miss?" he asked.  
  
"No."  
  
Arend nodded. The voice had returned to being cool and distant. He turned away.  
  
"Wait."  
  
He turned back. "Yes?"  
  
"You are the Prince of Serdio?"  
  
After a long moment, he nodded again.  
  
She considered him with her odd violet eyes, then nodded back. "I thank you, Prince of Serdio." Then she returned to her food as though nothing had happened.  
  
Arend watched her for a while longer, and walked over to where Ranin was drying his hands off on his leggings. "Come on, I don't feel like being here anymore tonight," he said softly.  
  
"I agree. I didn't think the guards would let such... people... into the town, much less the inn!"  
  
"They're probably perfectly good men who just had too many drinks," Arend pointed out. "Come on, let's go to the castle. My father said that Lord Dart has come today, and I want to speak with him for a while."  
  
"Lord Dart? Wow, yes, let's go see him!" Ranin agreed.  
  
They both left the inn, not realizing that a pair of dark eyes were watching them from behind a lifted glass of wine. "So be it," the woman murmured, and continued to eat.  
  
~*~ 


	4. Chapter Four

Chapter Four- Encounters  
  
~*~  
  
Kit watched the two young men walk out of the common room of the inn, swaggering slightly and joking with each other. They had probably only been in the inn for a short time before she entered and was attacked. Smiling faintly, she said to herself, "I owe him a debt of a sort. I don't wish to leave any tracks, no matter how scarce they are. 'Tis a good thing I didn't have to use my daggers yet."  
  
The young woman glanced down at the sleeves of her shirt, and her eyes focused on the glint of metal peeking out from under the sleeve. "Yet," she repeated.  
  
She finished her meal without any more interruptions, left another gold piece for the bartender, and turned towards the innkeeper. He was standing behind another desk in a nearby room, and perked up when she neared him.  
  
"May I help you my lady?" he asked with a nod.  
  
"Yes. I want a room for tonight only."  
  
"That will be ten gold, then," the innkeeper said. He held out his hand.  
  
Kit pulled out ten more gold pieces and handed them to him. He checked each one to make sure they were real gold pieces before placing them in a small safe.   
  
"Sorry for seeming so suspicious tonight, my lady, but there've been some tricksters out lately. Only a week ago I was given twenty fake pieces and barely had enough t' pay my taxes and keep food on the table."  
  
"No, I perfectly understand," Kit replied.  
  
"You're a better sort than most, then. Have a good night's rest. Here's a key in case you want more privacy," the innkeeper said, holding it out to her.  
  
She nodded, took the key, and headed up the stairs.  
  
The room was very simple, but decent. It held a bed meant for two people, a window, and a washbasin. Kit nodded in approval as she turned to lock the door; she could leave later out the window when her business was to be taken care of.  
  
"Never leave a hint as to what you've done," she murmured to herself. She was quoting one of her former masters. "If the door remains locked, the inn will assume I was in here all night. Not knowing if I have weapons will also help to let me leave unnoticed in the morning."  
  
Now for the preparations.  
  
Kit slipped out of her outfit and shoved it into her traveling pouch, and pulled out a different outfit. She pulled on black leggings and a shirt whose sleeves covered even her hands. Then she pulled her hair up and bound it into a bun. Finally, she pulled out a little container of soot and smeared it all over her face and neck; this would help her tonight for keeping from being seen.  
  
She glanced at the basin, which was filled with water, and nodded in satisfaction. Instead of a young woman, she looked almost like a shadow.  
  
The young woman checked her daggers. They were all perfectly plain, with nothing on them to give away where she'd bought them or even made them. If the need arose, she could leave the dagger with the victim and still not have to worry quite as much as others would in such a situation.  
  
/Poor Greon, always told me to stay out of the shadow,/ she thought, remembering the knight who'd given her this task. /If only he knew how much I already was a shadow in my childhood years.../ Then she shook her head, and glanced out the window. /When the moon rises, I'll head out. The sooner this is over, the sooner I can move on with my gold./  
  
~*~  
  
Arend headed into his father's study with a smile on his face, still laughing at the last joke Ranin had made before they had entered the castle. There, he spotted his father and mother talking to a man wearing blood red armor.   
  
King Albert glanced up as his son and Ranin approached. "We were beginning to wonder if you were going to join us for dinner or not," he said. His voice was somewhat amused, but also stern.  
  
"Ran and I headed to the inn for something to eat a while ago," Arend said.  
  
Emille glanced up at her son with no amusement apparent on her face. "And a drink, I presume?"  
  
He sighed. "Yes, mother, but only one." Arend glanced at the red-clad man and smiled. "Lord Dart, it's good to see you again."  
  
"Must we be so formal?" Dart asked, grinning back. He stood and they clasped hands. "Good to see you too. How's your training?"  
  
"It's going well, as far as I know," Arend replied.   
  
"And who is this? Friend of yours?" Dart asked, nodding at Ranin.  
  
"He's my friend Ranin. Ran, this is Dart. He's the Divine Dragoon."  
  
Ranin shook hands with the Dragoon with some awe on his face. "A pleasure, my lord. We've never really met before."  
  
"I remember speaking to you once, I think..." Dart scratched the back of his head. "It was some years ago, though. When Arend was beginning his training..."  
  
"Yes, I remember as well," Ranin said. "It was an honor to talk to you then."  
  
"Please, it's really not," Dart said laughing. "Just ask anyone in my village if you don't believe me."  
  
Arend grinned as well, then took a step towards the Dragoon. "By the way, Dart, how's Jim?"  
  
"He's learned Double Slash pretty well, but we're having problems on Volcano," Dart said.  
  
"Ah. I remember I had a little problem with my second attack as well."  
  
"Because you'd discovered the joys of the innkeep," Emille said, sniffing.  
  
"Mother," Arend began.  
  
"Let it go, Emily," Albert told his wife. "He hasn't made a fool of himself for years. Have you, Arend?"  
  
Arend blushed deeply. "No, father."  
  
Dart grinned. "A fool? What sort of fool?"  
  
Ran grinned as well. "Oh yes, do tell, Your Majesty."  
  
"A fool who went around half dressed in the streets proclaiming his love to every woman that he saw," Emille stated. "And declaring that he thought that pink was a nice color."  
  
"O-oh, I remember that," Ranin said, nudging his friend. "Fun night, eh, Arend? Got lots of ladies to talk to you that night."  
  
"Mother, let it go, please?" Arend muttered.   
  
"As you wish, son." Emille smiled faintly. "You know I only worry about the rougher types that you can run across in an inn. No matter how well the knights keep people in line, one or two always sneak in."  
  
"Too true," Albert agreed. "Thankfully, not too many have appeared this year."  
  
"There were three tonight," Arend said. "Well, rather, there were three who drank too much and tried to take a woman against her will. We dealt with them easily enough."  
  
Albert turned to face him, an eyebrow raised.  
  
"Worry not, Your Majesty. We only knocked them out and threw them out of the inn," Ranin said.  
  
King Albert nodded. "Just be careful, you two. They may have had friends about." He turned to the others. "How about we head down to the dining room and have dinner?"  
  
"Sounds good," Dart said, stretching. "I'm already starting to feel sleepy. I'd hate to wake you all up in the middle of the night with my stomach growling."  
  
Albert chuckled, and the others smiled.  
  
~*~  
  
Kit suppressed a snort when she saw the castle. Either the royal family was extremely naïve, or it had an entire regiment of knights hidden somewhere inside the castle. There wasn't a soul moving around the castle walls. She stretched a little from her cramped hiding spot behind a nearby tree; she'd been there at least twenty minutes. Then she sprinted for the castle wall.  
  
When she reached the wall itself, she pressed herself behind another tree, and peered around it. Good. No one was out tonight; apparently, everyone was either at home or at the inn.  
  
No. Wait.  
  
Kit readied one of her daggers in her left hand and tensed, listening. Footfalls sounded. Someone was leaving the castle. But who...?  
  
She dared a quick peek from around her hiding spot. A young man, either a knight or someone in the knight's training, was wandering away from the castle. He had his jacket thrown casually over one shoulder, whistling cheerfully. Kit relaxed; it wasn't the crown prince. It was his friend from the inn.  
  
The young assassin waited for a few more moments as the knight disappeared around a street corner, and all trace of him went with him. Finally, she turned towards the castle and peered up at it thoughtfully.  
  
"Now, how are we going to do this?" she asked the wall looming before her.  
  
The wall didn't reply, but a small breeze lifted a free strand of hair from her face for a moment.  
  
~*~  
  
Arend stretched lazily as he closed the door to his room and slipped out of his shirt, unbuckled his sword from his waist, and took off his boots. He then flopped onto his bed, staring at the ceiling. A candle flickered on a nearby nightstand, casting oddly shaped shadows across the room.  
  
He amused himself by watching those flickering shapes for a while, picking out animals and people they reminded him of. Finally, however, he felt his eyes begin to droop. He leaned over to blow out the candle before settling into a comfortable position. Arend slowly obeyed his eyes, enjoying the feeling of drifting...  
  
Crrreeeaaak.  
  
Arend tensed. Someone else was in his room.   
  
From the window, though? Impossible. The window was at least three stories from the ground, straight up. No one could get in there. And yet... he opened an eye and peered at the door. It was closed.  
  
Quickly he closed his eye again and pretended to be asleep. He'd wait and see if this was just his imagination acting up, or someone actually coming in through his window. Then he'd see what, exactly, they wanted with him.  
  
~*~  
  
Kit cursed mentally at herself when she stepped on an old, creaking floorboard. /Why can't the whole damned castle be made of stone?/ she wondered. /Well, no help for it now./ She made herself perfectly still for a moment, hoping that she wasn't going to be caught.  
  
Again, she cursed when she spotted the bed and the person in it. /Damn it, I climbed right into someone's bedroom. What if they wake up?/ She slipped her daggers into her hands and carefully made her way over to the person on the bed, trying not to make any more noise.  
  
She successfully made it to the bed and looked down at the person, squinting in the dim light of the stars and moon through the window. The person was still asleep, thankfully. His breathing was even and slow.  
  
Now who was he...?  
  
The young woman risked peering at him more closely, and nearly fell over in her surprise. The crown prince of Serdio!  
  
/What luck to end up right in his room! I must be gaining magical abilities now,/ she thought somewhat wryly as she stared at the sleeping form beneath her. /I can deal with this and slip off without a peep. Now.../ She tightened her grip on her daggers. /How shall we do this?/  
  
~*~  
  
Arend was getting more and more confused. The person, whoever it was, was definitely real, and had definitely come from the window. He could hear them breathing in the otherwise quiet room. He forced his breathing to remain calm and paced, as though he was still asleep. Fortunately, the person seemed to believe that he was sleeping, so his acting was working. He opened an eye again to spot his sword. Typically, it was just out of his reach.  
  
He mentally cursed as he felt the figure lean over him, and gasped. Arend quickly closed his eye, wondering if the person had noticed he was awake or not. In any case, it was about time he went for a weapon. If this person meant harm, which was most likely, then it was more than time for him to be able to defend himself.  
  
/On the count of three... one, two, three.../  
  
"HYAA!" he shouted and rolled off the bed towards his sword. He grabbed it and leaped up to block just as the person attacked him with two daggers. They were then locking their weapons together, trying to force the other to lose their grip or their will to survive.  
  
Arend first kept his focus on keeping this person away from him. Then he managed to shove them onto the ground beside him and pounced on top, aiming the sword at their neck. He squinted at the figure for a long moment as they struggled, cursing at him and reaching for their daggers, which he'd knocked across the room. After a moment, his eyes widened in recognition.  
  
"You?" he blurted.  
  
~*~ 


	5. Chapter Five

Chapter Five- An Unexpected Surprise  
Notes- I apologize for how long this took. I hope you will still enjoy this, however.  
  
~*~  
  
"You?" Arend blurted, staring at the figure pinned below him.  
  
The woman he'd helped only a couple hours ago was now glaring at him, struggling to get him off of her. Arend, being easily the heavier of the two of them, ignored her efforts to escape and continued to point the sword at her neck.  
  
"Who by Soa do you think you are, coming in here and trying to attack me," he demanded in a low voice. "I should call the guards for that."  
  
"Then go ahead," she said. Her cold voice made him shiver, shaking the sword's point a little around the hollow of her neck.  
  
"Damn it, don't you get it? When I call them and tell them what you tried- hell, forget me trying to explain it to anyone! The guards have only to glance around this room to see what's going on in here! Then you'll be hauled off and killed-"  
  
"What stays your hand, then? I'll kill you otherwise," she said. Then she grasped something nearby without glancing at it and hit Arend on the shoulder with it.  
  
"OW!" Arend, off guard, dropped his sword and started to rub his shoulder, and too late found himself knocked to one side as the woman rolled to one side to pick up one of her daggers. "Why do you want to kill me?!" he demanded.  
  
"Because it's the latest fad," she said simply, and lunged at him again.  
  
"You NEVER learn, do you- OOF!" Arend fell over, grappling with her for the dagger. Neither quite succeeded and the dagger went flying across the room. He dove for the dagger, and found it to be a mistake. Instead of diving for her weapon again, the woman shoved him onto the floor again and grabbed for a pillow on the bed. Arend grabbed the pillow from her and threw it across the room after the dagger.  
  
"You owe me," he grunted, "for helping you at the inn."  
  
"I didn't require your assistance. You offered it," she replied, and this time went for her dagger.  
  
That was her mistake, this time. Arend forced himself up and pounced on her from behind, sending both of them to the floor with a thud. He heard her swear and mutter to herself, struggling underneath him.  
  
The door opened behind him, spreading light into the room. "By Soa, what's going on in- OH!"   
  
Arend glanced back, and the woman beneath him ceased struggling. A servant stood in the doorway with a candle, her cheeks red as she stared at the two of them. The prince could easily tell what went through the servant girl's mind and also blushed.   
  
"I- I beg yer pardon, milord, I didn't know ye was b-busy," she stammered, and turned away. "J-just wondered if milord was a-alright, here..."  
  
The prince blinked. /Is the woman blind? There are pillows thrown all around the place, I'm pinning down an unknown woman- oh./ His blush grew. /Right. She believes what she sees because of those things. Soa, this is embarrassing./  
  
He glanced down at the assassin and frowned. /Why isn't she trying to protect herself with words to get herself out of here? Did she get knocked out?/ Cautiously, he sat back a little, ready to defend himself should he need to. The woman continued to lie on the floor, unmoving.  
  
"S-should milord n-n-need anything tonight?" the servant asked.   
  
Arend poked the woman cautiously on the back. She did not stir. "Er, no, not right now," he said, a little cautiously. "Uh, don't tell anyone about this quite yet, alright?"  
  
"O-of course, milord, not a word," she agreed quickly. "G-g-goodnight!" With that, she closed the door and he could hear her footsteps race away.  
  
Arend took in a deep breath, then nearly kicked himself. /Soa, what am I doing? This woman is- was- trying to kill me! What am I supposed to do now? I've just convinced a servant I'm sleeping with someone, and knowing servants, they'll have it all around the castle by morning, if not sooner! What'll I say to father and mother? What am I doing?!/  
  
"That was foolish," said the cold voice from the woman.  
  
Arend jumped. "I thought you were knocked out," he said.  
  
"From what? You?"  
  
"I could very easily knock you dead should there be a need for it," Arend warned her. He glanced at his sword, which was lying nearby.  
  
"That depends on whether I let you reach your weapon, your Highness."  
  
"One scream is all it takes to call the guards."  
  
"One slash is all it takes to end that call."  
  
"Ah, but I'll more likely scream before you can slash at me, you see."  
  
"Shall we see?"  
  
Arend smirked. "Very well."   
  
He dove for his sword as she went for her daggers. Both leaped to their feet and pointed their weapons at each other. The woman was slinking into the darker shadows of the room, while he made sure to stay in the lighter areas to stay certain of his footing and space. He didn't feel like being backed into a corner.  
  
They continued to circle for a while, and finally the woman seemed to lose her patience. She lunged for him, knives glinting in her hands.  
  
However, this time he was quite ready for her attack. He blocked her attacks and tried to hit her on the head to knock her out. She managed to slip out from under him and danced around him to get at his back.  
  
/Damn, she's fast!/ he swore and spun around, on the defensive again.  
  
He readied himself for her next attack when the door slammed open.  
  
"What is going ON in here?!"  
  
In strode the King of Serdio, his Spirit glowing angrily in his hand. Behind him was the maid who had come in earlier, looking a little nervous and pretending she was invisible.  
  
Arend gave her an annoyed look, then glanced from the woman to his father. /Oh, Soa, how do I explain this?/  
  
The woman, however, suddenly became very civil and bowed to Albert. "Your Majesty, King Albert of Serdio I presume?"  
  
"That is I. What are you doing in my son's chambers this late at night?" Albert said. "And what do you think you will gain by drawing a knife against the royal family?" His grip tightened around the Dragoon Spirit.  
  
"Merely doing my job, my Lord."  
  
"And that is-?"  
  
Arend glanced from woman to father, wondering what she was going to say. Finally, he couldn't take the silence any longer and had to open his mouth to say something when a bright glow shocked everyone into stunned silence.  
  
King Albert stared as the Dragoon Spirit in his hand continued to pulse a bright green, brighter than it had been before. A moment ago, he had been in touch with its power, feeling its magic pulsing through his very being. Now, however, that sensation was gone. It was as though he held a cool, ordinary stone in his hand, and nothing more.   
  
The collected group continued to stand there as the Dragoon Spirit lifted up from the King's hands, now fading into a gentle glow. Then everyone gasped as the Spirit went into the attacker's startled hands.  
  
Everyone remained silent for a good five minutes as the woman ran her fingers over the stone, eyes wide in surprise. Then she looked up.  
  
In a wondering voice, she asked, "What is this?"  
  
~*~  
  
Dart yawned, then sat up in his bed, wondering where all the banging was coming from. "Eh...? What by Soa...?"  
  
"Lord Dart! Milord Dart, please wake up!" someone shouted. "It's important you awaken and come to see King Albert in the study immediately!"  
  
"King Albert...? What happened?" Dart asked, pulling himself out of bed.   
  
He yanked on a shirt and some boots while the servant hurriedly explained what had happened through the door.   
  
The Fire Dragoon's eyes widened. "WHAT did you just tell me?" he demanded. Grabbing his sword and Spirit, he strode over to the door and opened it, finding a startled servant standing before him. "Say that again," he ordered.  
  
Nervously, the servant obeyed.  
  
"But... that can't be... already? Lead me to the study now!"  
  
The servant gave a little bow, then turned tail and hurried down the corridor. Dart followed in his wake, a grim expression settling on his features.  
  
What on earth was going on?  
  
~*~  
  
Kit stared first at the Spirit in her hand, then at the cup of tea in the other hand. Then she looked up at Queen Emille, whose son she had been readying to murder only a half hour ago.   
  
The queen smiled at her. "This must be quite a shock to you, young one," she said.  
  
"It was... unexpected. What is this?" she asked, raising the hand with the Spirit. "And why did it come to me?"  
  
"That is why we are holding this meeting, dear," Emille said. "And... we are deciding what, exactly, to do with you." She considered the younger woman critically. "Given your clothing and your weapons, not to mention where we discovered you, you were here to attack, possibly kill one of us. Yes?"  
  
"Yes," Kit said simply.   
  
"Why?"  
  
"Because I was ordered to."  
  
"Oh, so just because someone told you to do something, you follow their orders?" Queen Emille asked.  
  
Kit blinked. Then her eyes narrowed. "You only say that because there are very few rules you yourself need follow, Your Majesty," she said in a cold tone.  
  
"No, my dear. Actually, I must follow more rules than you can ever imagine. The rest of the world... has no idea how free they are, compared to the royal family." Emille sighed, then smiled again. "But that is of no matter. Here comes the men."  
  
Kit didn't have to glance up to know that by men, she meant King Albert, Prince Arend, Lord Dart, and two knights. However, glance up she did, and she then stood up to bow courteously.  
  
"Well, for a murderer, she is polite," one knight observed.  
  
Albert shot him a reproving look, and the knight looked away, embarrassed. Kit frowned. What was he up to?  
  
Then the king looked at her. "You realize there is no excuse for attacking my son," he said.  
  
"Yes, your Majesty. And I do realize the penalty is death," she said.   
  
He blinked, then nodded. "However, we cannot kill you," he said.  
  
Now it was her turn to blink in surprise. /Huh?/  
  
Smiling faintly at her confusion, the King gestured towards the chairs. Obediently, everyone in the room took a seat, Kit included. Albert leaned forward in his chair with his hands propping his chin up, looking at the stone in her hands thoughtfully for a moment before speaking.  
  
"Do you know what it means to own a Dragoon Spirit?" he asked.  
  
"I do not."  
  
"Ah. Do you even know what one is?"  
  
"A legend."  
  
Now Albert chuckled. "It was a legend. Now it is quite real. That stone in your hand... is how one can harness the power of the Dragon of the Winds."  
  
Kit stared at him. Surely he had to be joking, had to be making some cruel hoax on her for attacking his son. Kings were bound to play tricks like that... weren't they? Especially ones who killed their own uncles for the sake of power?  
  
Didn't they?  
  
"I think," Albert said, studying her expression, "that we will be up for quite a while, if not for the rest of the night. Emille, will you send for more tea, please?"  
  
"Of course, love." The Queen stood and glided out of the room.   
  
Kit watched her with just a touch of jealousy. How could anyone look so collected and awake in the middle of the night like that? Even she was becoming tired from all of these unexpected events.  
  
"Now, about the Dragoon Spirits," King Albert said. Her attention returned to him immediately. "Let me explain, shortly, how I came to it, and why it has come to you."  
  
The 'short story' took about an hour and a half to fully complete. Even then, Kit wasn't certain she was hearing things correctly. Here, she'd been sent to murder someone to get the country to go to war so her old friend could bring back Sandora... And now?   
  
Now she was a Dragoon Warrior, with magical powers that humans could only dream of. Powers even greater than some of the Winglies held!  
  
"With great power, comes great responsibility," Albert said solemnly. "Dragoons, from past to present, have always been honorable, trusting people who could do their duties and do them well. Assuming you are like that, I shall give you a task instead of sending you to your execution."  
  
Kit looked up. So he wasn't going to kill her. What sort of task was more important than being killed for attempted murder?  
  
"In a few months, my son will be taking a trip to Tiberoa with a friend of his. Instead of the usual guard, you will be his protection. If he returns with so much as a scratch on his body, you will be executed without hesitation, Dragoon or no Dragoon. If, however, you manage your job, which I don't doubt you will... you will be let free without charge."  
  
Kit let her mouth drop open.   
  
"What?!"  
  
~*~ 


End file.
